


Unleashed

by Sugar_and_Salt



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fantasy, Horror, M/M, alternative universe, disturbing imagery, probably confusing (again), referenced animal harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-07 01:20:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8777446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sugar_and_Salt/pseuds/Sugar_and_Salt
Summary: After a tedious journey, Chanyeol and Luhan find their latest target hidden in the depths of a forest - a long abandoned asylum. The building does have stories to tell, but there's also something else telling stories here...





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was beta'd by my all-time beta, texturedjeans, who doesn't seem to get tired of me anytime soon :D  
> It was written for the 1st round of YeolMyDeerest~ ♥︎  
> Have fun reading and as always, feel free to ask me any questions if you're confused.   
> I'll gladly clear things up :3
> 
> Love,  
> Sugar_and_Salt ♥︎

Somewhere in the depths of the Southern forests, hidden in the bushes and days away from the next village, there was a building. Even during its prime days it must not have been a magnificent sight, but now multiple stories which had once resembled carbon copies of the nondescript main ground were now differentiated by the various states of decay. Cracked windows, withered rags adorning those windows which were still intact for the most part, and thick vines slowly ate away at anything they could reach.  
Chanyeol's eyes shone brightly at the sight. Finally they had found it. It had taken days of combing through the woods, but here they were, about to explore the infamous place they had heard so many rumors about. Ready to unravel the truth - whether or not the people inhabiting this place centuries ago had actually discovered something. A cure to some mythical sickness, maybe, or just another, dangerous virus - whatever it was, it must have been dangerous enough to have officials send forces and put an end to it. Quite violently, if the few bullet holes strewn across the wall were any indication.  
Chanyeol turned to the side, facing his partner with fresh determination.  
"Ready?" he simply asked, and even though Luhan was obviously tired from all the walking they'd done, he nodded, obviously just as eager as him.  
"Let's take a first look at things, as long as the sun is still up." he suggested, rubbing a few streaks of dirt off his face, only to wince when it got into one of the fresher cuts on his arm. Without thinking, Chanyeol reached for the washcloth in one of his right pockets, like he’d done so often since he'd placed it there around noon. It was more dry than wet at this point, but still sufficed to roughly wipe away at the dirt on his partner's hands, before it could stick to the superficial wound. They'd been traveling for about two years now, and yet it never ceased to amaze him how delicate Luhan's overall appearance was. The blond wasn't weak at all, neither physically nor mentally, but somehow, his outer appearance seemed determined to keep up the innocent facade. He received a thankful grin in return, and without words, they both staggered down a slippery slope and towards the building.  
Even in its deteriorated state it was still rather imposing in height, and if the rumors were true, it was rooted deeply into the ground. They were cast in shadows when the massive walls blocked the last specks of orange light flooding the ground, and the air grew chilly. FInding an entrance wasn't too hard, considering that one wall had half-collapsed, but where Luhan's expertise lay in ancient languages, Chanyeol had a very keen eye for buildings, and this one seemed safe to step in.  
Chanyeol took the lead and heaved his heavy backpack off to place it at the side of the entry, proceeding with nothing but the absolute necessities in the bags strapped to his heavy traveling pants. There were both advantages and disadvantages to not carrying everything with you at all times, but Chanyeol was an inherently clumsy person, so he greatly valued the increased freedom to move. He cautiously stepped inside and down a hallway, eyes darting around to take everything in. The air turned even chillier, making the tell-tale smell of an abandoned building -a mix of mold, dirt and maybe deceased animals- more bearable. A few steps were all it took for both of them to realize that there wouldn't be a monetary treasure awaiting them anywhere - whatever remnants Chanyeol could make out under the thick layer of oblivion didn't look like it had any value at all. Just split tiles, broken candleholders and many doors left and right. If they were lucky, they might find a few medical instruments that they could sell off in order to get back some of their investment, in case there were no real revelations to be discovered.  
Yes, this might not be the most promising of journeys, but somehow Chanyeol had felt drawn to the story whispered in the taverns of the closest village, and as always, Luhan indulged his enthusiasm.  
"This looks like it was   a nightmare since the moment it was built," Luhan whispered from somewhere behind him, and Chanyeol agreed with a hum as they paced down the main corridor.  
"I don't think asylums are meant to be anything but," he replied absently, while trying his hands on a doorknob. Locked. They could still try to force their entry anywhere later, so he let it go.  
There was a quiet sound in the distance that had both of them freeze in their tracks to listen. It sounded like little stones or debris raining from a gaping hole, but it was oddly echoing, as if they were in a cave. Chanyeol couldn't help the odd feeling being magnified by this. Something about this place was... off.  
"You think the ground is unstable?" Luhan asked, one hand on the wall as he remained rooted to the spot. Swiftly, Chanyeol crouched down to feel up the ground, knocking it and the nearby wall, before shaking his head.  
"No. It's safe."  
His blond partner didn't seem all that convinced by the quick and easy assessment, but Chanyeol was sure. They continued their first assessment, passing by a few rooms that gave them chills. There was a reception desk in one room, almost buried behind the fallen furniture. Papers were strewn around everywhere, soaked and molding in one corner of the room. It would have barely unsettled either of them, if not for the generous streaks of dried blood on both the counter and the tiled walls. With a dry gulp, Chanyeol's eyes flitted over the bloody tracks that looked like fingers on the shelves. The chair. The doorframe.  
They decided to advance, but the mood had definitely dropped a bit. Would they find corpses in here somewhere? It wouldn't be the first time, but that didn't mean there was any looking forward to it. There were explorers who liked this type of thing, but neither of them belonged to that category.  
The air was changing, somehow. It was probably his mind playing tricks on him, making him imagine the metallic taste of blood lingering in the air, settling on his tongue. The blood here had dried ages ago, and yet the air was so suffocating-  
"Strange, don't you think?" Luhan asked, and Chanyeol was ripped out of his thoughts. He inhaled deeply.  
"The way the rooms are left behind, I mean. That doesn't look like abandonment. It looks like the patients clawed their way out, one by one."  
He was right. Sure, sometimes a shelf would fall, and animals would rip apart curtains in years of abandonment. But these rooms were a different story. Something... or someone had taken the room apart in what looked like a wave of fury. Or maybe desperation. His eyes flew to the side, to his partner. Luhan made a show of shuddering, answering his gaze with a small grimace.  
"Ugly story."  
"Yeah..." Chanyeol agreed quietly, and finally, a door opened under his fingertips, presenting a staircase. It went both up and down, and was almost completely dark, save for the faint light sneaking around their own silhouettes. With a sigh, Luhan reached for one of their torches, clever fingers lighting it without doing so much as look at it. Instead, he looked at Chanyeol.  
"You wanna go up or downstairs?"  
 _Downstairs. Down, down, into the basement._  
Chanyeol blinked.  
"Uhm. Downstairs?"  
Luhan shrugged, offering him the torch while lighting one for himself.  
Chanyeol barely paid him any mind as he began to make his way down, careful to light the steps. The fire wasn't strong enough to show more than four steps at a time. It wasn't the first time he had descended into darkness, but it was the first time he felt this wary. Usually, it was Luhan who avoided complete darkness, ever since that time he'd been preyed upon by a wild animal. This place felt completely dead though. Maybe more than dead. Could something be so dead that it was alive again?  
He tried to focus, shaking his head ever so slightly. Nonsense, what was wrong with him today? One hand trailed down the railing, ready to hold on to it, but the building seemed stable enough. He eventually set foot into another corridor with doors left and right, ceiling not as high as the length of the staircase suggested. The rooms were probably higher-  
There was something. There, at the far end of the corridor, something glinted. Chanyeol held out his torch while shielding his eyes from getting blinded by the direct flame.  
Another two steps revealed that it was a wheelchair. It looked like someone had crashed it into the wall, where it had tipped over. Now it lay there, dead and forgotten, and the shadows it sent where oddly clear and... looked like the shape of a person. Involuntarily, Chanyeol's heart rate sped up, though his posture stayed calm. Sometimes, your eyes would get adventurous with dark silhouettes, forming all sorts of ludicrous threats. Fantasizing about huge birds in dry tree branches, looming and waiting. Imagining the eyes in tree trunks staring at you with terror. But light would lift the veil, and make you sigh in relief and embarrassment over yourself.  
Slowly, he inched closer, and the shape remained a human silhouette. Closer and closer he went, but his mind wouldn't come up with any different possibility - if any, the silhouette got more refined, slim shoulders, the tips of hair strands-  
Chanyeol froze in his tracks, maybe six steps between him and the wheelchair. And the person standing next to it. This was not some fallen piece of furniture or medical device, it really was a person. A young man, dressed in a stained hospital gown, with a roughed up appearance, face averted to stare at a spot on the wall, right above the wheelchair. Fleetingly, Chanyeol followed his gaze. There was nothing. The light flickered  
and it looked like the tiniest twitch in the person. Chanyeol jumped back, shocking himself by his own, violent reaction.  
  
"I hate ghosts..." Luhan murmured very quietly next to him, and Chanyeol felt sorry for him. Luhan was a good explorer. He was adept in many common languages and smart enough to decipher those he didn't know about. He was patient and both daring and careful when he had to be. But he wasn't without fear, and his greatest weakness might be spiritual happenings. Anything related to ghosts, really. Luhan was good at proving stories and myths wrong, to pen it down to rationality; but if he couldn't, they left him recoiling and shuddering.  
Yes, Luhan truly loathed ghosts, and Chanyeol was the one able to see them. It had only happened twice before. Once, he had seen a spirit in a sea, nothing more than odd light and fog-like swirls resting right below the mirror-like surface. Another time he had seen a snake curled around thick branches, its skin shining unnaturally, almost like metal. Luhan hadn't been able to see either of them, and maybe that's why Chanyeol had called for him. Because he felt safe around his oblivious partner.  
"You still see it?" Luhan whispered, and he agreed, equally quietly. With a sigh that yearned to be a full-blown whine, Luhan took the lead, exploring the corridor himself, while Chanyeol's eyes stayed glued to the figure.  
Luhan delegated both torches to him, and with an audible gulp, he strode down the corridor. Chanyeol followed him, stomach dropping with every step they took towards the person, who hadn't moved an inch. His insides cramped up when Luhan came to a halt right in front of it, one hand absently reaching out for the wheelchair. The moment his fingers grazed it, the pale man's head twitched and his glassy eyes flitted to fixate on the fingers instead. Chanyeol's breath hitched loud enough to startle Luhan, who looked at him in mild alarm.  
"What?"  
But Chanyeol only shook his head and urged him to keep going. When he walked past the figure, fingers shaking around the torches, his heart was pumping so violently that it hurt his throat. But the body didn't move again. Still, Chanyeol felt sick in the stomach from knowing that the threat was right behind them now, caging them in.  
"Are you alright? It's gone now, right?" Luhan asked with a worried glance back into the seemingly deserted hallway, wrenching one of the torches out of his stiff hands.  
Chanyeol wanted to reply, he really did, but the light of the torch woke more glints in the darkness of a nearby room, and he gasped instead. Before he knew it, his feet had carried him inside as he took in the sight of more dirt, more dried blood, and _mirrors_. White tiles covering the floor, the walls and ceiling of this odd, circle-shaped room. And so many mirrors fixed to the wall. Chanyeol turned in a circle, counting them. At this point, Luhan had entered the room, experimentally closing the door, to find a mirror on the back of the door as well.  
 _Twelve, like a clock._  
 _Every hour of the day, one mirror._  
 _Bloody fingerprints on one mirror, cracks on another._  
 _Cracked at one hour, whole at another-_  
Chanyeol screamed in shock, tumbling back. He heard Luhan yell something, saw the second flame dancing along his vision, but his eyes were fixed on the girl in the mirror, who had one palm on the glass, the other over her bloody eyes. He slipped and hit the ground, head turning from his position on the floor as he frantically looked around.  
"I wanna leave," he uttered out, words sounding distorted to his own ears, but behind which mirror was the door? There were only glossy, white tiles and the mirrors kept blending into each other in an endless circle. Behind every mirror was a girl, and one was smiling-  
"I wanna leave! Luhan, I wanna leave-"  
A hand grabbed his arm and roughly pulled him up.  
"Shh, we're leaving now. I'll lead us out, hold on. Breathe, Chanyeol," he heard his partner instruct him, and only now did he notice that his breathing had become sharp and irregular. Chanyeol closed his eyes tightly and gasped for air, blindly following Luhan, tugged along by his endless string of calm words.  
"It was too late to do much anyway, time to retreat."  
A door opened and Chanyeol stumbled over something, but when he opened his eyes, the white tiles were gone.  
"I'm really tired from all that walking, the trip here was exhausting."  
They paced down the dark, dirty hallway, past the wheelchair. Chanyeol saw feet from the corner of his eyes, but Luhan was quick-paced and merely pulled him past it.  
"We both deserve a break, don't you think? Eat something, drink something - let's go for the soup today."  
Up the stairs, up into the natural type of darkness that beared dull silhouettes, down the main hallway. There was a vague light in the distance where moonlight filtered into the entrance.  
"I'm sure we can light a campfire, this forest is completely harmless according to the villagers."  
 _Out. He wanted to leave, he **had** to. Now._  
They stepped out into the fresh, clean air and Luhan put out one of the torches, pushing a bag into Chanyeol's hand. Right, his bag.  
Without thinking, Chanyeol followed his partner, concentrating on the rustle of leaves and twigs beneath his feet, trying to take them and fill the void in his head with them. Shortly after, he was sitting on the ground, leaning against a tree. A blanket was slid around his shoulders, and arms were rubbing his, slow and strong. There were words, something about dinner. Luhan's words. Right, he was with Luhan. His partner. His friend. It was alright to close his eyes for a bit. To think about the scent of prickling fire and soup, about moist leaves and tree roots, and the way Luhan had complained about them all day.  
  
"Are you feeling better?"  
Chanyeol blinked, eyes focusing on bright orbs. He nodded slowly.  
"Yes," he croaked out. "Sorry."  
The shining eyes smiled, and his lips did so, too. Only then did Chanyeol notice the steaming bowl of soup offered to him.  
"Finally you're talking to me again. I was getting lonely."  
Luhan didn't say more than that, simply slipping into place next to Chanyeol with a bowl of his own. Luhan's recipe repertoire consisted mostly of soup, but by now he had gotten the gist of what he called 'throwing ingredients into a pot with water', and the result usually tasted good. Every spoon of the hot liquid helped chase away the scratchy feeling in his throat, calmed down his erratic heart into a lazy, content pace.  
"What happened? More ghosts?"  
Chanyeol nodded again, and after remembering the other's previous words, he added a small "Yes". The blond made an unhappy noise. Spoons clanked against the metal bowls, sound dulled by the liquid filling it.  
"We can just leave, you know."  
He quickly shook his head. But he did want to leave, right? What was holding him back?  
"It's alright. I just need some rest..."  
He actually twitched when a hand was placed on his shoulder. Sensing this, Luhan rubbed his thumb into the blanket above his shoulder, hoping to offer some comfort as he sought his eyes.  
"I mean it. It didn't look too promising, anyway."  
 _No!_  
"W-what?" Luhan uttered in surprise, making Chanyeol realise that he had said this out loud.  
"Uh. It's just. I don't know, I feel like there's something to uncover. It's an odd place, don't you think?"  
The blond eyed him strangely, but complied. Soon, the campfire was put out and they were both huddled together under their blankets, sharing warmth like they usually did.  
And Chanyeol dreamed.  
Maybe he shouldn't, because exhaustion had the habit of painting your dreams pitch black, but Chanyeol looked up, realising that he'd merely stared into an abyss. Standing at the edge, his eyes roamed stone and tiles, seeing the _hands_. All those hands that were drawn on the wall across him, reaching out of the abyss. Curving, and grabbing, dripping with the blood they were drawn in. Resembling the spirits of the remains down there. Down, where it wasn't pitch black, after all, and not even particularly deep. There were _things_ down there. Glistening pieces of flesh and glossy, white bones, and Chanyeol tumbled back in terror, turning to run down the hallway, but he had to go through the room with the mirrors, sneaking past the screaming girl that scratched at the mirror, where her other self was mocking her. Was almost hit by the person in the wheelchair that was being slammed into the wall by someone.  
The exit was so close, but then there was this cat calling after him. Chanyeol turned to see a black cat sitting there, chained to the wall and mewling out to him. Tiny, pitiful, and with such pretty, blue eyes. A shiny collar was fixed to a leash, keeping it chained to the wall. Chanyeol wanted to help it, but he was also scared. Scared of the cat, scared of the rooms, scared that he'd take too long to free it and that the exit would be gone-  
  
Being ripped into reality was blissful, and almost physically exhausting. Black vanished into green, pale blue and rose colors. Clean, fresh air drizzled on his racing mind like a cool balm. He was lying on his back, looking up at the morning sky in between the tree branches.  
He was wrapped up warmly, as Luhan had thrown an arm around Chanyeol, one leg wedged in between his, knee rubbing uncomfortably against his groin. With a hearty exhale, Chanyeol relaxed his muscles, determined to enjoy the peace a little longer, and yet apprehensive of falling asleep again. The terror still had an icy grip on his insides, but instead of granting it more attention,  
he reached around until he had one arm placed over Luhan's, absently stroking the warm skin. They were like that. They were something and yet nothing, in a comfortable way. Or maybe they were everything one person could possibly be for another.  
  
"Ah, you mean split personalities?" Luhan asked around a mouthful of bread. The sun had risen by now, though it hadn't reached its zenith just yet.  
Chanyeol nodded.  
"Yes. She had as many of them as there were mirrors, and she'd stand in this room, turning and talking to each of them. It drove her mad."  
"I'm pretty sure she was mad to begin with."  
"Maybe, but it went to the point that she broke one of the mirrors, and used the shards to take away her eyesight," Chanyeol argued, and Luhan grimaced around his breakfast at the image.  
"Nasty. How can you be so sure though?"  
That was an uncomfortable question. The good ones usually were.  
"I dreamt about it. I don't know. I also dreamt about that wheelchair," he continued, trying to avoid answering the original question, "it belonged to a young man. But some angry staff member shoved him, and he hit his head on the wall. There was also a leash and a cat..."  
"A cat?" Luhan asked, the doubt clearly written into his features. Chanyeol hummed in agreement, absently picking at his loaf of bread.  
"Yes. I wonder what that means..."  
"Maybe it's just a dream," his partner offered, stashing away their belongings. "The offer still stands - we can leave, if you want to."  
But Chanyeol dismissed him, telling him that the happenings from the day before already seemed blurry and unreal. That he had probably been tired.  
Because something urged him to return.  
  
Luhan spent the following hours cooped up in the reception room, going through the masses of paperwork in search for something interesting. Chanyeol, on the other hand, wandered through the building, exploring it in daylight. As it was so often the case, the terror had paled a little in the stark sunlight. He wandered down all the hallways, forced open every door he found, but it wasn't enough. In fact, every room he forced his entry into, seemed a little... dull. Why was he so restless, anyway? What was he searching for?  
He wasn't afraid of the ghost next to the wheelchair anymore. After all, he hadn't caused its death. It was still there, eyes still trained on the wheelchair. Chanyeol simply didn't touch anything near it, and the ghost didn't stir. He avoided the mirrored room, though, especially because that one was still pitch black, completely closed off from the faintest of sun rays.  
Really, what was he seeking? A cat? There was no way he'd find a cat.  
What he did find was lots of rooms that had him either shiver or made him sick in the stomach. He had a few more of these weird premonitions, too. There was a room full of rusty old weapons sticking out of a rotten mattress, and Chanyeol knew that the patient had been suffering from a past, war-induced trauma, to the point where he kept all these weapons under his cushion. Why did he know that? What was he missing?  
He didn't want to, but the only logical room to check was the mirrored one. He'd passed through this room in his dream, and it was the only one he hadn't checked today.  
With a deep breath and armed with a torch, he entered the room. The ghastly mirrors were blinking in the light, and there was a shadow of the girl in one of them. She was looking directly at him, shaggy long hair falling down her shoulders, bright, wild eyes trained on his.  
 _Calm down_ , he told himself. _It wasn't me who harmed her. It's not me she hates._  
 _Right?_  
With slow, measured steps he approached the mirror, eyes locked on the unnaturally bright ones, which seemed so static and yet ready to move at one wrong move of his.  
There, if he just tugged at the mirror, digging his nails into the tiny crevice... it swung open with a protesting creak, revealing a large room behind it. More tiles left to assume that it had once been some sort of bathroom. The ceiling had broken down, leaving faint sun rays to stretch across the vast space.  
There were more shabby tiles and a chair with leather straps in one dirty corner.  
"Luhan?" he called back to his friend, voice loud, but also a little frazzled with fear at the ends. He heard the softest response coming from somewhere upstairs, but his response was stuck in his throat when he saw it. Saw the hands. Across the room, in a corner. It felt like trespassing; every step he took left his skin to prickle and insides flip in wary anticipation. The abyss came in sight, the abyss that really only was an empty, abandoned pool, and there was this short metal board hovering over it, but it looked too frail to support his weight-  
"Yeol? Oh my-"  
His head flew around before he could get too close a look, settled on his partner, who was inspecting the room, blond hair and pale skin almost shimmering in the dim lighting. Luhan was beautiful by nature, but somehow, he seemed almost ethereal in this place. He didn't belong here, he was too... pure.  
Chanyeol remained frozen in place as he watched the blond pad around the room, gravitating towards the huge chair.  
"This looks... bad," he whispered, fingers reaching out ever so slowly to graze the straps meant to fix people's limbs. The second his fingertips touched the leather, Chanyeol felt a sting in his throat, a quick, painful slice. His gasp must have been audible, because Luhan stopped in his tracks, shooting him a questioning glance.  
He numbly shook his head, and when Luhan crouched down, emitting another soft "oh my", Chanyeol finally dared to stagger closer to him. Looking over his shoulder, he saw him thumbing an unnaturally small leash, matching the ones on the chair, but fixed to it with a chain. The leash. The cat.  
"Where is the cat?"  
The question lingered in the air, small and vulnerable, and instead of Luhan's confused reply, Chanyeol _felt_ the answer in the way the hair in his nape stood up, coaxed by a wave of cold. It was behind him, calling out to him. Behind him, where the hands were. Slowly, he approached them, Luhan's voice drowned out by the buzzing sound he was suddenly hearing, the noise of fluttering, humming insects and flies, amplified to an unnatural volume, sitting right in his ear. He didn't stop before his toes were touching the edge of the pool. It was deep, much deeper than he’d expected, and down there were... things. Piled up, covering the ground almost entirely in a sea of filth and death. Lumps, rotten bodies, rotten flesh, bones. Tiny bones, dried blood sticking to the tiles like it had once been filled with it, and shreds of fur-  
It hit Chanyeol, the sight, the revelation. Hit him deep and painfully somewhere around his insides, hooking on to him and _pulling_ him forwards, down, down to join them-  
"Hey, careful!" Luhan called out, and then there were hands resting on his forearms, keeping him in place. He shakily stepped back from the edge, and felt the body behind him tumble.  
He knew it now. The reason for the ghosts lingering here, for the cat and everything down there.  
"It was me," he stammered, and the hands on his arms tightened in an effort to keep his trembles at bay. "It was all me, I summoned those ghosts-"  
"What are you saying?" his partner asked, shifting in front of him so he could gauge Chanyeol's expression. He felt so scared, he wanted to bury himself in his arms and just... disappear. The air was getting thin again, and the metallic scent made so much more sense now.  
"I was here, as a child. I- I drew those hands on the wall, I drew them with blood," he muttered gripping the other's lower arms tight enough to feel the blood desperately trying to pump through his veins.  
"I ripped those ghosts back from the beyond, and now they're stuck here-"  
"Calm down, Chanyeol. Stay calm. Why would you do that? How would you ever forget?" Luhan asked, but a flicker of panic danced in his orbs, betraying his controlled demeanor.  
Chanyeol didn't know, but it was true. He saw it now, clipped flashbacks of the way he had seen the corpses down there, patches of skin still intact, dried blood much darker than now, flashes of fresh blood - it had been him. He was a monster, had indulged himself in dark, dirty rituals. He _had_ freed the kitten, had severed the leash, and he had sliced it open, thrown it down there to dip his fingers into it. The dirt stuck to this place; Chanyeol's dirty fingerprints were all over it.  
It was his fault, after all. The spirits were stuck here and they should hate him, and what if they recognized him? He was so _scared._  
Scared, scared, scared-  
"Breathe, Chanyeol! We're leaving now, forget about this place, I've had enough-"  
And Chanyeol wanted to leave. He wanted to run away, far, far away. So why was Luhan tugging so hard - why was he struggling?  
He all but yelped when he pushed open the mirror, feeling _something_ touch his fingers from inside the mirror. All the corridors and stairs passed by in a blur. He kept knocking into things because it was pitch black, but Luhan didn't seem inclined to return for the torches. The moment Luhan's vice grip loosened a while later, Chanyeol gracelessly tumbled to the ground, knees scraping the roots of the tree in their makeshift camp.  
"Heavens, Chanyeol. What's going on with you?" the blond huffed out, terror sprinkled in the gaps exhaustion left.  
The forest was so vast and open, it made him feel vulnerable and small, so Chanyeol only curled in on himself, hugging his knees and hiding his face.  
 _I did that_ , he whispered, over and over again.  
 _I did  
that._  
Luhan told him to sleep. Told him they'd leave at the crack of dawn and definitely never, ever return. He pried him out of his cramped posture, forced him out of his shirt, and did the same himself. Beneath their blanket and all of their spare clothes, Chanyeol flinched at the contact of bare, warm skin on his. It was warm and alive, unlike the horror they'd just left behind. Clammy fingers tightly cupped his cheeks, waiting until Chanyeol dared to look in the sparsely illuminated, bright orbs.  
 _Stay with me, okay?_  
  
And Chanyeol didn't dream. Or maybe he did. Dreamed of looking into the dark, dark abyss.  
When he awoke, the moon was hanging low, and his chest hurt. There were colors, dark green and blue, the pale moonlight painting Luhan's skin white. But everything seemed subdued. Smudged. And he knew they would forever be void of life, knew that he'd suck out the life of everything around him, for as long as he breathed. He had to righten the mistake he'd made. He had to set the ghosts free.  
And with slow, careful movements, he sneaked out from under the blanket, little twigs and dry grass pricking his bare feet with every step he took.  
  
When Luhan awoke, dawn hadn't arrived yet. He felt it more than seeing it, by the cool, dry air that spoke of the absence of dew. He also felt the loss of warmth next to him.  
With a start, he sat up, exhaustion completely wiped away.  
"Chanyeol?"  
He already had a shirt half-tugged over his head, not really expecting an answer. They should have risked the nightly journey, after all. His partner was gone, and Luhan was perfectly sure where he'd wandered off to. With his shoes barely tied he set off, a torch in one hand.  
He had known Chanyeol for a few years now, but he'd never behaved like this. Ever. He was kind, playful and loyal - a true friend and possibly more than that. They were a team, they knew each other and were perfectly harmonized. Until that moment they had set foot in this god-forsaken place. Luhan believed in ghosts, spirits and dark rituals. He didn't want to, but his heart did. He _did not_ believe that his partner, the tall, harmless boy, was capable of such cruelties. Still, something was terribly wrong, and Luhan inwardly cursed at himself for underestimating the danger as he flew down the corridors. Chanyeol hadn't been himself all this time, not at all. All the spirits he was seeing, the waves of fear and delusion, the panic-induced lack of air that had been torturing him. And he had been talking about cats all the time, even though the Chanyeol he knew was terrified of cats, not willing to go near them.  
He crossed the mirrored room, towards the one leading to the room with the bloody hands drawn over the pit. The mirror had been left ajar, and what he saw while peeking through it, almost caused him to drop the torch.  
There was Chanyeol, standing on the old metal plank, hands fumbling at his neck, and in front of him stood Luhan. _He_ was standing there, right in front of the brunet, feet standing in the air. There was a ghost that looked like him, and Luhan saw it.  
"Stop that, Chanyeol," it softly said, and it was Luhan's voice, too.  
"Breathe."  
Luhan wanted to storm inside, but the thin rack he was standing on was so fragile, and now he saw the chain glinting in the moonlight. He pushed the door open for a fleeting glance confirming his suspicions - Chanyeol had pried one of the leather belts off the chair and attached it to one of those ominous chains dangling from the ceiling he'd seen earlier already. Now he was pulling at the leathery end, pulling the collar he'd made for himself tighter, until his breath hitched audibly. And Luhan knew that he was one step short of hanging himself. One tiny step to pull the air out of his lungs for good.  
"I gotta free the spirits, Lu. I have to," he half-whispered as his air supply was cut off for a fraction of a second, “I gotta pay for what I did to them.”  
"There are no spirits, Chanyeol. There are no ghosts. You made them up. Together with it, you made them up."  
It?  
Luhan's eyes involuntarily wandered to the ghostly version of himself. It somehow kept Chanyeol alive, and he was afraid what might happen if he startled them.  
"When your loved ones left you here to rot, chained like an abandoned little dog, _it_ found you," the spirit continued, and the voice did have an unnatural depth to it, "you were scared, weren't you? Scared and desperate to escape the leash they put on you, tugging and tugging until you were out of breath, right?"  
Chanyeol all but whimpered, and Luhan feared he might choke himself bare-handed before the chain and gravity would get a chance to do so.  
"But _it_ awoke and freed you. And you were still stuck in here, all alone in this horrible place with all those corpses and nothing but _it_ to accompany you," the ghost continued almost gently.  
" _It_ played with you, and it egged you on to play along. And because you were so, so lonely and small, you followed _its_ demands. _It_ told you about the spirits, didn't it? How you could make eternal friends, right?"  
Chanyeol's fingers had seized the tugging, warily hovering over his neck. Luhan saw a tiny bit of the tension in his shoulders dissolve.  
"I dragged those bodies into the pit, and drew the hands so their spirits would come back," he whispered, hushed and full of terror as the realization washed over him, "but I only imagined them. I just came up with their stories, and their stories were so dark I ended up being scared of them. And then I actually killed that cat. Because I wanted the cat to be my friend forever."  
Luhan saw his chance, slowly inching into the room. The chain wasn't that short, if he managed to sneak up on Chanyeol and pull him backwards-  
"But _it_ wanted to play even more. You were getting more and more scared of _it_ , didn't you? And one day, you ran away, all the way through the forest. _It_ was disappointed and angry. And _it_ didn't forget about you-"  
The ghost's eyes met Luhan’s and for a surreal second, he looked himself into the eye, before the shape vanished, bleeding into one of a young girl with short hair and bandages slung around her throat. Her eyes widened, and Chanyeol's head flew around to stare at Luhan. There was nothing but raw, primal fear etched into his features - it was unlike anything he'd seen before.  
"Chanyeol," he began quietly, shakily, and the other almost compulsively reached back up to the collar around his neck.  
"Luhan," he whispered, fingers scraping over the leather.  
"Luhan, I can't get it off, it's too tight, it won't loosen-"  
He took another step when the metal beneath Chanyeol's feet screeched dangerously, and the ghostly woman held up a warning palm, urgently telling Luhan to stop in his tracks.  
"A knife, I'll get you a knife, we'll free you," Luhan muttered, fumbling through his pockets as his eyes darted between Chanyeol and the ghost. The girl opened and closed her mouth, but no sound escaped it, one hand absently touching the bandages. Luhan's fingers grasped the knife, and he took another step towards Chanyeol, but the metal creaked again, just as the other's breath hitched, and the ghost shook her head almost violently. She lifted her hand to point at something in the corner. Luhan was torn, and Chanyeol's watery eyes were seeking his, full of doubts and fear.  
"Luhan?"  
 _Don't abandon me, don't let me die_ , the small, tiny voice said.  
And Luhan's eyes flitted to the ghost, and then to the corner she was pointing at. And he made a decision.  
"Don't move, Chanyeol. Stay still and nothing will happen, I’ll get you out of this" he reassured him, slowly inching backwards. The fear flared up visibly, but besides a whimper, Chanyeol stayed still, fingers still tugging at the tight collar. _I won't leave you, I'll stay here, we'll leave together_ , Luhan repeated over and over again, until his feet bumped into something. The chair with the straps. The topmost one was missing. What was the ghost trying to tell him? He looked back at her, a desperate question written in his eyes.  
She only averted her gaze to look at whatever she was pointing at, something by his feet... Oh. The leash. The little one, the collar fixed to the foot of the chair, the one that looked like it was meant to keep a small animal. He hastily crouched down, leaving the torch to lie on the tiled floor as he reached out for it. The moment he touched it Chanyeol yelped, and a surge of heat stung him, too. This was it, the source of all this madness. Luhan gripped the knife in one hand as he bravely reached out for the collar, trying his best to ignore the fresh wave of pain that overcame him. Somehow, the ghost's story made so much sense and he could see it now. How the little collar hadn't held a cat, but a child. Fixed around its throat, shiny metal sealing it for good. He could see it, could see the way the scrawny kid was pulling and tugging at the leather, trying to free itself. Scared of wild animals, scared of starving to death, scared of the dark. Chanyeol had freed himself at one point, so the collar must have ripped somewhere - but this one was intact. And it was _pulsing_ in his grip. Without thinking too much, Luhan placed the blade on the leather part of it, starting to chafe through it. Chanyeol howled in pain, and Luhan felt it, too, but he kept cutting and tugging at the sturdy leather. The sounds around him became blurry and only belatedly did he notice that it must be because he was getting light-headed. The air was getting thinner and thinner, and his hand heavier, but  
he'd almost done it-  
With a heavy snap, the leather ripped, and the metal behind him gave in. Luhan whipped around, almost falling over at the sudden motion. He was sure he saw a ghostly hand grazing the chain dangling from the ceiling, but then it was gone. The plank had broken away, and with shaky movements, Luhan scrambled towards the edge of the pit, stomach dropping in fear. But Chanyeol was breathing. Unharmed by the falling metal he was lying there, in all the filth, wide eyes blinking up at some point above Luhan's head. He followed his gaze to see the ripped collar dangling from the chain.  
  
Luhan took the time to cut up the remnants of the tiny collar. Leather was hard to burn, but he left the tiny pieces in the open flame until they finally gave in. All the while, a shaking Chanyeol was pressed into his back, not saying a word.  
Then they packed up and left. Luhan left all the documents he had found, no matter the worth. They exited the forest in the North, coming by a village telling them the story of a young kid stumbling out of the woods years ago, just like they just had. Luhan decided not to stay in that village, either, tugging a pliant Chanyeol ahead by his hand.  
  
Days passed, seasons bled into each other, and Chanyeol went back to normal. But he never said a word, ever again. Neither did he see spirits anymore.  
  
Sometimes, Luhan wondered whether that ghost had been so helpful because she, too, had met _it_ , this nameless and faceless entity that had tempted young Chanyeol into doing unspeakable things just for its sheer amusement. For she had worn those bandages around her throat, and her true form had lost the ability to speak. Maybe she, too had defeated _it_. Maybe death had set her free.  
Either way, he had Chanyeol back for good. The thing binding him, suffocating him, was dead - the price had been high, but now he was back to being himself. He was lively, full of curiosity and radiating smiles, and even more affectionate than before. And at night, when the world had turned perfectly silent, Luhan loved to gently place a palm over the side of his throat, feeling his pulse and listen to his deep, steady breathing.


End file.
